


If You Just Stay (Stay For The Night)

by Captaindick



Series: Going Back To Your Room [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, M/M, Oblivious Derek, Slow Build, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captaindick/pseuds/Captaindick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles feels more comfortable with Derek when he is a wolf. It all escalates from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Just Stay (Stay For The Night)

**Author's Note:**

> I need to be writing other things, not start new ones but that’s not how inspiration works.
> 
> This isn’t season 3 compliant.
> 
>  
> 
> !!(warning: A dog is put to sleep in this fic. Please read with caution!)!!

It’s not like Derek is paying attention to it, it’s just impossible to ignore: Stiles likes him in his alpha form. His alpha form, which took too long to perfect shifting into, which cost them in the first months; Derek overheard him telling Scott that it was fluffy and more friendly and open. Stiles is delusional. Derek isn’t different when he’s a wolf. There’s almost no line between the human part of him and the animal part. He lived with the wolf all of his life and it’s easier for him being both, than for the turned wolves. Maybe he’s more tactile in his animal form, but it’s a necessity: he can’t communicate with words (“Eyebrows. You’re incapable of using words even if your life depended on it.”), so he pushes Stiles instead of shouting at him to move, because barking only distracts the boy and yipping made him bend in half in hysterical giggles, making Derek growl instead. So nothing changes, he’s the “broody creepy” self he always is. But Stiles seems to make a point of displaying his dislike for his human form and all signs of affection for the wolf.

And, god forbid, he doesn’t want Stiles to pet him or scritch behind his ears, wolf or not. It just became easier, for the boy not to expect him to respond as long as he can get his long fingers into Derek’s thick fur. And human contact that doesn’t involve hitting someone might be kind of nice. It’s not like he’ll allow anything of that sort once he’s human so he indulges the boy in the contact when he’s fully shifted. He didn’t see much harm in that.

It all comes to an end though when he hears Erica snickering about “Stiles’ pet dog” when the betas are relaxed and not expecting Derek to be nearby. So next time Stiles stands closer, reaching out in a familiar gesture, Derek growls low in his throat, snapping his teeth at him. Of course, because it’s Stiles, the kid just looks confused and reaches out again, murmuring in a soothing voice. The wolf bites the air in front of the boy’s fingers again and stands up to walk away, followed by his confused betas as he leads them deeper into the forest to their training grounds. Betrayal and shock linger as a sour stench and he pounces and attacks with aggressive vigor, making the betas submit even faster than usual.

His pack becomes less open after that: they stop laughing and smiling as much and instead are quiet and following orders without useless commentary. Derek feels like he’s won. He feels good, knowing he didn’t let them think he’s gone soft. The times he does feel bad about it, about Stiles acting the same, but no longer trying to touch him and smelling slightly off, as if he’s faking all the smiles; he stomps down on the feeling and relishes in the power he has over his pack.

He smells it before he hears it – Stiles got a dog. A raggedy hound from the shelter. It barks at Derek but he glares at it, forcing it to stop and lower its head. Stiles all but yells at him the moment he does that and drops to his knees, coming to eye-level with the dog (Mr Grumps or Cutie, as Stiles informs) and stokes his unevenly cut greyish-red fur until the dog tentatively licks at his face and only after that Stiles stands up and pays attention to Derek. While Derek tells Stiles what he should be looking for, wondering how the hell Stiles made his father agree to adopting a dog this huge, and Stiles types madly at his laptop, Mr Grumps (that’s just ridiculous but no way he’ll call it Cutie) comes over and lays its head in Stiles’ lap. The research visibly slows down after this because Stiles feels the need to stroke the dog’s head and back every now and then. Derek doesn’t say anything, examining the dog from the place he occupied on Stiles’ bed: it looks badly beaten up, it limps and has fur missing from its flanks and tail. Stiles’ fingers stop their work on massaging the dog’s neck and Derek snaps his face up. Stiles is looking straight at him.

“He was beaten up by some kids.” Derek nods once and Stiles turns back to his computer, long fingers of his right hand back in the dog’s fur.

After a couple of months the dog looks nothing like it did at the start, it could even be a half bred, and now they’re inseparable with Stiles. Grumps whines whenever his master has to leave and Stiles makes up excuses to leave pack meetings early. The pack loves the dog. They’re all getting distracted and whenever Stiles brings Mr Grumps to practice there’s commotion and they can’t start for at least another twenty minutes. Derek beating sense into them doesn’t work. And when Stiles makes a hurt sound after Derek growled at his dog for coming close, Derek actually spends some time petting it himself. Soon enough the dog is trailing everywhere after Stiles, finding ways to make him take him with him, or simply running out of the house and refusing to move or put on a collar. That’s how they end up at Deaton’s with Stiles and Derek covered in blood, Stiles sobbing violently in the corner in a plastic chair, waiting to see if the vet can do anything to save Mr Grumps after he protected Stiles from a rogue omega.

“Can you hear him?” Derek turns away from the posters on fleas and how to get rid of them he wasn’t actually reading and looks at the boy huddled up in a corner. Stiles’ face is a blotchy red, his eyes are puffed and his nose is running. Derek never knew what to do with crying people so he just stays in place. “Can you hear his heartbeat?”

The kid’s voice is weak and breaks on his last words. Derek nods stiffly.

“It’s beating.” Stiles breathes a sigh of relief and seems to start calming down. Now Derek doesn't know how to say that the heartbeat wasn't there just a minute ago, or that now it's so so weak. He could just say it. But if Stiles cries again he'd just… not exactly feel worse about it. But if Laura cried, she always hugged him first, and even then he felt wrong and out of place. He's not going to hug the boy to comfort him. For several reasons, the biggest of them being that his company and his affections would not be welcome or perceived as sincerity.

Deaton comes out after another half an hour or so. The dog's heart stopped a couple of times during the period. Derek never mentioned it. Stiles jumps up and tries to run into the operation room, but the vet stops him gently.

“Stiles…”

“Oh god, oh my god…” The boy’s face crumples and the dry heaving and the sticky smell of panic come back. Derek flinches in his corner, staying away.

“He is alive, but…” Deaton makes an unnecessary dramatic pause which features too many shifts in Stiles' emotions. “His life would be torture after this, Stiles. He has too many injuries and broken bones. I could save him, but every movement would bring him pain, he'd-”

“You have to put him down.” And it doesn't sound like a question, nor as a statement. Stiles' voice just became void of emotions.

“Would you like to..?” Stiles pushes inside, without saying a word and Derek makes an abortive motion to follow him, but just shifts in place, uncomfortable and awkward. He can't help but hear him though, like his earshot attuned to the boy and the changes in his heartbeat and breathing while they were waiting in the small room together.

“Hey, hey there, boy.” There are shuffling steps and Derek hears scratching and stroking. The dog whines in pain. “No, no, don't get up. I'll sit with you, ok?” a sob. The dog moves around, whimpering while doing so and there're licking sounds. The sobbing comes back full force. “Hey, come on, stop it.” Stiles kisses the dog's muzzle. And Derek hears Deaton getting ready to put the dog down, shuffling around, opening and closing drawers.

“You're a real hero. You're like - the bravest, most badass -best in the world dog ever, ok? And I'm here with you. I love you.” Stiles can't talk again for a while and Mr Grumps licks at his face or hands. Derek doesn't know because of the closed door. Deaton moves closer to the table and there's a sharp intake of breath.

“I- Grumps...” There's just more sobbing. And then he's whispering under his breath. Probably leaning even closer to the wounded, ripped open dog. “Tell mom we're doing ok. Tell her we love her. She'll take care of you.”

Then there's whimpering and Stiles is as silent as he can be, but as soon as the dog stops breathing he collapses on the floor and starts crying again. Derek would run away about now. But he needs to give Stiles a ride home. Not because he’s worried the kid wouldn't be able to drive in such a state, but because he drove him here in the camaro in the first place. The back seat is covered with dog blood and it will take weeks to get rid of the stench.

Derek waits for an hour to take a puffy eyed unnaturally silent and still Stiles home.

***

In all honesty, Derek suspected they wouldn’t be seeing Stiles on pack meetings for a while. The boy needing some space and wanting to be left alone with his grief. But It was _Stiles_. And Derek shouldn’t have been surprised to see the boy’s jeep parking beside his camaro. Stiles probably needed the company to keep his mind off of things and Derek was going to help.

He was already in his alpha form when Stiles got there, so he came up to him and pushed his forehead into the boy’s thigh in a familiar gesture, the way he used to before the betas made fun of him and how he acted. But Stiles doesn’t scratch his head the way he used to. The boy stills and starts blinking fast, his heartbeat speeding up. He makes an excuse about forgetting something his Father told him and fumbles with the keys, trying to even his breathing out. Scott tries to talk to him but Stiles tells him everything is fine in a high pitched strained voice and drives off.

The salty smell of tears stays, clogging up Derek’s nose long after Stiles is gone, mixing with the stink of disapproval.

***

Derek isn’t sure what drives him and makes him do what he does, but he’s in his wolf form, outside Stiles’ window and he’s planning on coming in. Maybe it’s the way Stiles started smelling like grief and wasn’t smiling as much as usual. Or maybe it was Stiles’ absence from pack meetings eating at Derek. Stiles was human and Derek learnt as a child: that humans were weaker and more gentle. Laura often used this excuse when she pushed and shoved him hard, calling him a weak human; Derek couldn’t be weak and he wasn’t sure if showing up like this, now, was going to make him look like that in the pack’s eyes. But right now he needed to take care of said pack, the weak and breakable human that was drifting farther away from them, under the threat of getting consumed by his guilt and sadness.

Derek huffs, deciding, and makes it up to the open window and inside Stiles’ bedroom. The greeting he gets isn’t really what he expected.

“What- ” the boy stutters and flails, standing up from his chair. “You- YOU THINK IT’S OK? YOU- WHAT _WERE_ YOU THINKING?! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU JUST-”

Derek does what he does best in this form. He cautiously walks up to Stiles, still screaming at him waving his arms in wide gestures, and butts his thigh with his forehead. It’s not something he was aiming for but the next second the kid crumples to his knees and is hugging Derek tightly, crying into his neck, hands fisting the fur.

“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone about this,” is hiccupped into Derek’s fur and Derek lets out a low rumble, letting Stiles know he’s not going to talk. They spend all night tangled up, Stiles falling asleep the moment the wolf made him lay down on the bed, getting in beside him and letting the boy pull him in closer.

Derek spends the night looking after the boy, making sure to press up closer if there is any hint that Stiles was getting cold or was having a bad dream. Stiles stirs awake only when Derek’s out of the bed. He looks rumpled and vulnerable, as if Derek leaving will break him. The wolf nods at the door and Stiles catches on. It’s the early hours of the morning and his father is back from the night shift. The boy nods and threatens Derek again, as if Derek would _want_ to tell anyone about this.

Derek watches the teenager pull up the covers and snuggle against them before he leaves.

***

It’s not something he can explain, nor is it something he thinks about. He just does it. Turns up at Stiles’ house after dark and spends the night. At first Stiles was a little awkward about it, hesitantly locking his arms around Derek’s neck, but he got balder, dragging Derek to the bed and maneuvering his paws and playing with his ears as he watched a movie, Derek content with the calm, listening to Stiles’ heartbeat. Watching tv as a wolf was uncomfortable so that was the only option.

Stiles whispers secrets to him sometimes. Not significant important things that could help in battle or protect the pack. Little things about Stiles. About his dog and how he got his father to leave it, about feeding it from the table when his father wasn’t looking and noticing the sheriff do the same, about how he missed the large dog and how he wished he never came into its’ life, because that way it would be safe. Stiles cries when he talks about it and Derek, bold in his alpha form, licks the tears from his face.

Stiles talks about his mother precisely two times and both times Derek’s fur is wet with tears.

***

Derek doesn’t care, he just notices. Notices that Stiles, so open and welcoming to him when Derek is a wolf, shies away and avoids human Derek just as usual. Maybe that’s the way Stiles tries to hide what they’re doing but he’s smart enough to know that all the Betas can smell Derek on him and vice versa. So Derek doesn’t care. It just does him wrong and he itches to fix this.

Stiles doesn’t react well when he falls asleep with an animal and wakes up with a man in his bed instead. Derek doesn’t even have to lie to explain the shift: he’s the same – wolf or not. He does lie about shifting unconditionally. This doesn’t placate the boy and he’d shout at him if the Sheriff wasn’t at home.

“A giant-ass wolf would be a billion times easier to explain than a naked guy!” Derek doesn’t think so but shrugs and wears Stiles’ clothes to get out.

***

The next night Derek shows up wearing Stiles’ clothes, the same track pants and tight shirt he borrowed, but Stiles instantly puts up a fight. Derek crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for the boy to run out of steam but doesn’t have the patience for it in the end.

“You shared a bed with me every single night up until now. I don’t see a problem.”

Stiles gapes, flushes, his heart speeds up a bit and he starts pacing the room, avoiding Derek’s eyes.

“You need me to explain? Really?” Through all the embarrassed vibes he’s giving off, there’s anger seeping in. “I’m a healthy teenager and I refuse to be ashamed! Having someone in my bed besides me, hell, even thinking about it- don’t make me say it, dude. It’s a normal reaction ok. You can just wolf out and it’ll be-”

Derek flops on the bed, getting comfortable, effectively shutting Stiles up.

“I’m going to sleep.” He stares Stiles down, the boy holding his gaze. “I don’t care if you wake up with morning wood. Go to sleep.”

Stiles complains while Derek settles in under the covers and storms off downstairs, complaining about sleeping on the couch.

Two and a half movies later he’s back upstairs, shoving at Derek’s side and crawling under the covers beside him. For another hour before he falls asleep he tosses and turns, bitches endlessly about Derek being all firm instead of fluffy and voicing exactly how much all of this isn’t enjoyable.

***

Contrary to Stiles’ belief, he isn’t hard and humping Derek in his sleep and the alpha can smell the relief flooding off of the kid when he wakes up to realize this. Derek’s human the next night too. There’s less complaining and whining but it’s still too much and the man really would rather sleep now than catch up on sleep at his loft after these sleepovers. Maybe that’s why he says what he says:

“There was this story I made my Mother tell me almost every night when I didn't want to go to bed early.” There's a sharp intake of breath and Derek realizes what he said. He never shared this with anyone, not like there was anyone to share it with. But it feels like too much already. Like he stepped into scary territory and he needs to turn before he gets in too deep.

“What was it about?” Comes a tentative quiet voice and Derek finds himself reciting the _How werewolves were born_ , and then _The moon's days on earth_ , about the moon turning into a young girl and walking among wolves when she’s not in the sky. The wolves couldn’t see her but she was happy just being beside them; and then he even tells _The little wolf's courageous adventures_ which his Mom made up especially for him. And Stiles never interrupts, listening attentively, hanging off of every word and doesn't fall asleep, which kind of is the point of bedtime stories, but instead he snuggles closer and Derek lets him stroke a hand through his hair. Stiles smiles and says they're soft. Like his fur.

“Do you ever sleep?”

Stiles falls asleep with his hand still in Derek’s hair.

***

The next night Stiles shares _his_ Mother’s stories, making up parts when he couldn’t remember what happened, sometimes mentioning why she would come up with this or that part, all tightly intertwined with her son’s life and things that happened to him that day.

Derek listens with the same respect Stiles listened to him talk and they both fall asleep soon after the boy’s voice trails off on a yawn.

***

Stiles and Derek both get used to their nightly routine. Stiles stops putting up a fuss about Derek being human and lets him closer during the day, sometimes spending time together, just the two of them, no pack. The kid shows him movies on his laptop, arguing that trashy horror flicks are somehow a significant element of modern culture Derek can’t ignore and even drags him to the movie theatre, the only one in Beacon Hills, to watch a remake of something, Derek didn’t care enough to remember what it was, and spends the whole movie complaining and talking trash about it, making Derek roll his eyes and suppress smiles. It’s comfortable and when you get used to the flailing and the constant chatter it’s even nice. Derek feels content.

They’re lying in bed together, on the brink of sleep, when Stiles murmurs “Good night” and kisses him on the cheek. Derek wakes up in an instant, pulling away with his whole body, falling off the small bed onto the floor.

“Oh my god! I knew the clumsy was contagious!” Stiles cackles as he leans over but the smile leaves his face as soon as he sees the sheer horror on the werewolf’s face. The boy pales. “Oh… oh shit. Oh shit, Derek-”

Derek is out of the window in a heartbeat.

***

He ignores the issue. Derek assumed Stiles wouldn’t shut up about the incident, call him, text him, corner him and make Derek talk about it. But it doesn’t happen. And Derek ignores his own thoughts until he just can’t and he has to think about it, think about how it came to this. About what led Stiles to believe that they were… that it was like that. About how he missed it happening right before his nose.

Derek tries to run away from his own thoughts by running in the woods but as he gets close to his old house he catches a faint scent and is swarmed with _Stiles-Stiles-Stiles_ and his escape doesn’t seem to work any more.

He doesn’t understand how he could’ve started a relationship without even suspecting he was doing it. Was Stiles delusional or was it just Derek being oblivious? Was it really that obvious and was it really his fault for not noticing? For how long it stopped being something simple and turned into this? Was it them “taking it slow”?..

There are too many questions and no answers he can come up with, no answers he’d feel comfortable hearing. So Derek turns tail and locks himself in the loft for the day.

***

Stiles isn’t sleeping when he comes in, he’s lying in bed with his laptop on, massive headphones covering his ears. The moment he catches sight of Derek he says a quick “Bye, Scott.” Without as much as a glance at the screen and sits straighter, shutting the laptop and setting it aside. He looks and smells wary and frightened. Unsure. But there’s this light tinge to his cheeks and his heart isn’t all nerves, the uptick signalling something else: hope.

Derek can’t believe Stiles would hope for something, hope for _this_. The were doesn’t understand why the boy would even believe this would work. That there’s something between them. That he wants Derek to want it. That he wants _Derek_.

“Come on, I can hear you thinking but I really need words right now, even if I know it physically pains you, but I think I might have a panic attack if I don't hear you say something. Can you even imagine how hard it was not to call you all this time?”

That's the moment Derek says _I won't come again_ , maybe _Sorry for leading you on_ , or _You were wrong and stupid_. Instead he strips out of his clothes, leaving only the underwear on and Stiles is unnaturally quiet as he shuffles making room on the bed. Derek lays down, body stiff, mind going into overload telling him to get out. Instead he kisses Stiles on the corner of his mouth and settles down, hand tentatively lingering close and Stiles interlinks their fingers, finally calming down, leaning his cheek on Derek's forehead and then going for a full-body bone crushing hug. Derek doesn't even protest. Just holds on in return, thinking about all the ways he will ruin it in the future, how he's destroying Stiles' life just by doing it, but Stiles' hand is in his hair and he's selfish. So so selfish. He doesn't deserve anyone to love him. He doesn't deserve the trust, but, god, how he wants it. He clutches Stiles closer and the boy chuckles, leaving a kiss on his forehead. They fall asleep intertwined and Derek tries not to smile but it's really hard when he's surrounded by Stiles' scent and his warm arms, his heartbeat fluttering against his ear.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't have a beta and i usually write whenever i have time and am usually on the brink of sleep so if there are any mistakes - feel free to tell me!


End file.
